


The Purple Flower

by pherryt



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [20]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Tower, Confessions, Dubious Consent, Fucking Machine, M/M, Sex Pollen, mission, needy!clint, purple flowers, worried!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Bucky's disappointed when Clint isn't around when he gets back from a mission - only to find out heisand nobody's seen him for three days, so Bucky goes to make sure he's okay and is greatly surprised by what he finds.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Winterhawk, side stony - Relationship
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416790
Comments: 16
Kudos: 157
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019





	The Purple Flower

**Author's Note:**

> last square for the bucky barnes bingo - Kink: Fucking Machine
> 
> i didn't think i'd do it. thought there was NO WAY i'd be able to write this square and then i had this idea this morning. today's the last day. wowser!
> 
> some notes about the dubious consent and rating at the end for spoilers

When Bucky and Nat got back from their mission, their first stop after debrief and medical was the common area of the tower. Steve and Tony were canoodling at the counter and being all sickeningly sweet, coffee was freshly brewed and there was no sign of anyone else.

No sign of a _specific_ somebody else who Bucky was _not_ sweet on, no matter what Steve Rogers said. From the sly look Nat was giving him, she didn’t believe his protests any more than Steve did. Whatever. He didn’t need people to believe him. He needed Clint to remain unawares, because things would change, and Clint would probably run.

Bucky might have been a charmer once before, but he wasn’t that person anymore and he was still all sorts of messed up. Certainly, he was no prize and Clint would be wise to avoid anything more than friendship with him.

It didn’t mean that Bucky was any less disappointed that Clint wasn’t there.

He made it a good five minutes before he asked after Clint.

“Eh, pretty sure he fucked off to his place in Bedstuy as soon as we got back from Avenging,” Tony said with that tone of voice that meant he was exceedingly offended that Clint could _possibly_ prefer any place over his.

“Actually, sir, Agent Barton hasn’t left the building,” JARVIS piped in suddenly.

Steve frowned and looked at Tony. “That was three days ago, JARVIS, are you sure?”

“Impossible,” Tony agreed. “The coffee supply here is _rather_ undented, no mysterious messes to clean up, no practical jokes or off tune singing– no signs of Barton at all. If he was still in the building, I’d know it.”

“With all due respect, sir, but signs indicate Agent Barton not only hasn’t left the building, but he’s been in his rooms since the teams’ return 3 days ago.”

The words made something in Bucky’s stomach fall. Granted, he didn’t know Clint all that well, maybe, though he knew him better than some of the rest of the team, but it didn’t sound like him.

“What?” Steve asked, straightening up in his seat, causing Tony to list and squawk as he’d been leaning into Steve the whole time, and casting a startled glance around the room as if any of _them_ might have an answer.

“How’d the mission go?” Nat asked suddenly, sharply. “Did something happen? Was anybody hurt?”

“No, nothing like that,” Steve said. “Everything went as well as could have gone, nobody was injured – team or civilians. We came back here, debriefed and then we went our separate ways.” Steve now had that worried, guilty look on his face. “Maybe one of us should check on him?”

It was a question but as soon as he said it, Steve was standing.

“No, I’ll do it. you stay here with Tony,” Bucky said suddenly.

Steve wavered. He took being team captain seriously but he also wanted to encourage Bucky to be around Clint, figuring things would happen naturally if they just spent more time with each other. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked to Nat, as Clint was _her_ family, and Bucky would defer to her if she wished to be the one that checked in on him.

She shrugged, then nodded. “Go, check on him. Let me know if you need anything.”

Moments later, Bucky was at Clint’s door, knocking, but there was no answer. “Jarvis, are you sure he’s in there?”

“I am quite certain, Sergeant Barnes. Heat signature indicate Agent Barton is still inside.”

Bucky bit his lip. Privacy protocols meant that JARVIS couldn’t spy on anybody in their own rooms, and whatever he did manage to pick up, by accident or otherwise, had to be carefully skirted around.

“Maybe he doesn’t have his ears in? Have you tried – “

“Yes, sergeant. He has not responded.”

Bucky froze for a just a second before launching into motion. If JARVIS was interrupting him, it indicated worry but due to the same privacy protocols, the AI couldn’t outright say anything. Bucky couldn’t even remember getting through the door – it didn’t matter if JARVIS opened it or he busted it down or not, or if he actually remembered the keycode Clint had once given him -because he needed to get to Clint, and he needed to do it _fast_.

He skittered through the living room, the usually purple décor covered in even more purple than normal, deep purple flowers that suffused the rooms with an unnerving smell, that Bucky only noted in passing. Clint had been holed up in here for 3 days. If JARVIS was worried, Bucky was definitely fucking worried.

The door to Clint’s room was open, a strange whining sound nearly drowned out by another, more rhythmic, mechanical one, and something slick, and Bucky froze once more at the unexpected sight before him.

The room was filled with the same flower, and Clint was naked on his bed, on all fours, whining as a machine fucked into him over and over again. He was sweating and pale and shaking and Bucky hated himself for intruding like this, but something was pinging him badly. Something was wrong. What was with the flowers? They might have been purple, but Bucky couldn’t see that Clint would have gone out and filled the entire apartment with them, much less want to _lay_ on them. And that _smell?_ It was making _Bucky_ dizzy in the short span of time he was here. Had Clint been in here the whole time like _this?_

Why?

“Clint?” Bucky asked cautiously. He should turn around, should leave, should give Clint his privacy but something still seemed… _off_ to him. And that smell was heady, overpowering. For a second Bucky’s head and vision swam, but he shook it off. When his head cleared, he was standing by the bed, by Clint, could see how abused his hole was, could see the tension in Clint’s spine.

He couldn’t top himself from reaching out to touch Clint’s back, the skin hot to the touch, and Clint gasped, arched into it – and what? What the fuck was happening right now? Shouldn’t Clint be freaking out about this? About Bucky – or anyone, really, since Clint hadn’t even _seen_ who was here yet, hadn’t responded to any audio stimuli - being here, in his room, while he had a… a… a fucking machine _fucking_ him?

“Please, please, please,” Clint’s voice wa a hoarse, broken whisper and Bucky couldn’t stand it anymore. He flushed hot, his pants grew tight and he swallowed. He pulled away, Clint crying out from the loss, and Bucky turned, searching frantically for the off switch.

“C’mon Clint, talk to me,” he said, fruitlessly, once the machine stopped. Bucky eased it back, when all he wanted to do was throw it against a wall, a sudden surge of jealous envy flooding him. He pushed that back as well. He had no right to Clint. They weren’t like that.

As soon as the machine stopped, as soon as Clint was empty, the archer’s shaky limbs stopped supporting him and he slumped onto the blankets, smashing more of those damned purple flowers flat, the fresh scent of them wafting into Bucky’s nostrils.

Bucky’s breathing hitched as he looked at Clint, laid out before him like so many of his dreams. Clint was still moving, whimpering. Something was seriously fucking wrong and Bucky was having a hard time keeping a clear head.

“Clint, what’s going on?” Bucky was strangely torn between worried and turned on and so fucking confused. Clint’s ears were bare, and he gently reached out to roll him over. Clint’s eyes lit on Bucky, glazed over and blown.

“Bucky,” he whispered, reaching out for him.

“Clint, sweetheart, what’s going on?” Bucky managed, catching Clint’s hands. With sudden strength, Clint was on his knees, pulling Bucky to the bed and Bucky – he could have resisted, but his arms felt like jelly and his legs were lead, so he didn’t, letting Clint yank him close. Before Bucky knew it, an absolutely naked Clint was climbing into his lap and Bucky… wasn’t resisting as much as he should be as lips attached to his neck.

How often had he dreamed of Clint kissing him, of Clint being in his arms, of Clint rubbing up against him…

No, no, something was wrong. Bucky shook his head to try and clear it and Clint whined when he was dislodged from Bucky’s neck. Something crunched under their bodies, that delicious, dizzying smell hit Bucky hard and then he was pressing Clint flat to the bed, their tongues tangling in a heady kiss.

The smell…

The flowers…

Bucky groaned into Cint’s mouth and pushed up on his hands but Clint’s fingers had tangled into his hair and wouldn’t let him go and Bucky found himself strangely weak against Clint’s pull.

No, he couldn’t give in to this. They needed help.

Fumbling, Bucky reached for his pocket, grasped the phone and pulled it free. It took long moments before he could manage to thumb it open blindly, but he had few contacts and he hoped to god he was calling Steve or Nat. As locked as their lips were, Bucky couldn’t even see and it was hard to concentrate with Clint writhing under him, with Clint’s fingers working their way under Bucky’s mission clothes.

It was probably the overabundance of buckles that were the saving grace (and the most damnable obstacle) of the situation.

“Hello? Bucky? Did you find Clint?” Steve’s voice cut through the haze a little, a haze that Bucky hadn’t even been fully aware he was in, and he was able to use his strength to pull away from Clint this time. Undeterred, Clint went back to Bucky’s neck, sucking and biting and oh so very fucking distracting.

“Found him,” Bucky gasped. “His rooms. Infection? Oh fuck, Clint – you gotta stop that, sweetheart –“

“Infection?” Steve’s worried voice rang through the room but Clint didn’t even notice it.

“I – I don’t even know, Stevie. But I think it’s infectious. Something… somethings going on, and I’m having a real hard time here –“

“Bucky,” Clint whispered into Bucky’s ear, sucking on the lobe and pulling it between his teeth. Bucky groaned and rolled his hips down into Clint. “Yeah, c’mon, get your clothes off Buck, lemme feel ya…”

“Uh…” Bucky would normally have laughed at how scandalized Steve was but right now, Clint was determined to wriggle his hand into Bucky’s pants and Bucky was having a hard time remembering how to say no and why he _should._

“The flowers,” Bucky blurted as a fresh wave of the scent hit him. “It’s taken over the apartment. Found him like this, all needy and shit. The smell… it’s… it’s strong. Don’t come in here without breathing masks.”

“I’ve alerted medical and we’re on our way. Can you remove him from the apartment?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll try – _Clint!”_

If Steve said anything more, it was lost to Bucky because Clint had almost succeeded in getting his hand into Bucky’s pants and his lips had trailed back over Bucky’s jaw. His eyes were still glazed over and Bucky was breathing hard as he captured Clint’s hands in his metal one carefully.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Bucky coaxed, hoping Clint’s faculties were working enough to lip read. “We’re gonna get some pants on you, okay? Team emergency.”

“Huh?” Clint asked dully. Bucky had to force his hips still and close his eyes. He could do this. He could do this. Never mind that Clint was laid out before Bucky like a wet dream come true. Clint was obviously not fully in control of himself right now. Hell, _Bucky_ was barely in control of himself right now.

Bucky nuzzled forward briefly, breathing in Clint which, strangely, helped him clear his head enough to pull back and speak again. “I promise to give you as many kisses as you want, and more, if you can help out here, sweetheart, okay?”

It took a lot of coaxing and careful maneuvering to get Clint to shove a pair of sweatpants on, with a lot of starts and stops along the way. Clint’s hands and lips roamed like a brand, his words were incendiary and Bucky _needed_ so bad that the whole thing was torture.

He lured Clint through the apartment with more kisses, pausing to fetch them both up against a wall briefly, JARVIS helpfully flashing lights at them every time they stopped making progress for too long.

He couldn’t remember if that was something he’d asked for or not, but he didn’t care, even if it was a breach of protocol, because it was an emergency and it did the fucking trick.

His brain started to clear the second he got out of Clint’s apartment, though slowly, but it was _also_ clear that it was taking longer for Clint to snap out of the daze than Bucky was. He was draped all over Bucky and whining when hands started pulling them apart.

Steve and Nat, Tony and Bruce – all four of them were there, wearing apparatus on their faces.

“JARVIS, quarantine Barton’s quarters and scan for foreign substances.”

“Right away, sir.”

Nat started guiding Clint down the hall and Clint protested, lunging back towards Bucky. Somehow, he slipped through her fingers and had wrapped himself around Bucky in a heartbeat.

“Don’t leave me,” Clint whispered. “Need you. Been dreaming of you and here you are, finally.”

“Not going anywhere, doll,” Bucky whispered back, his heart skipping a beat at the admission. “I’m right behind you, promise. Team emergency, remember? Follow Nat for me, okay?” Bucky wasn’t sure how much of that he was getting, but he hoped to god enough of it was getting through that Clint would cooperate.

Clint shook his head and Bucky leaned in and gave him a small, sweet kiss. “Please, do it for me, sweetheart?” Clint closed his eyes and nodded, detaching himself from Bucky and allowing Nat to pull him down the hall without protest this time, but he kept twisting and turning back to check that Bucky was really following him.

Bucky couldn’t _not_ follow him if he’d tried. Before Clint had gotten too far, his feet moved of their own accord, unwilling to let Clint out of his sight. They got to Tony’s medical wing which was more scientists than doctors, sometimes, but usually worked out all right for them. There they were sequestered in separate rooms almost immediately, and Bucky could easily hear Clint kicking up a fuss in the other room as soon as Bucky was out of sight.

It was all Bucky could do not to chase after him, his hands clenching into fists from the effort, the plates of his arm whirring madly as they clenched and shifted at the same time with his agitation.

“Buck, are you all right?” Steve asked.

Closing his eyes, Bucky gave a jerky head shake.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky flinched, jerking away.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. He didn’t want anyone other than Clint – _oh fuck_. He slumped, his head hanging.

Startled, Steve held his hands up and stepped back. “No touching unless I’m Clint. Got it.”

* * *

Clint was fucking embarrassed.

Everything was still a big haze, but a few things were absolutely clear – like him throwing himself at Bucky, without a single goddamned stitch on.

So, the pretty little purple flower he’d picked up at the scene of their last mission had turned out to be some sort of construct that had emitted what basically amounted to as sex pollen. In small doses, easily resisted, but once back in the apartment, the flower had multiplied overnight – and kept multiplying. Before Clint had known it, he’d been keyed up and horny as fuck and desperate for any sort of release.

Only he wasn’t getting it. Not his fingers nor his toys had helped, not when he kept wishing for one Bucky Barnes instead – a fruitless wish, because he was a disaster and Bucky was sure to know that and want to stay well clear of him.

Friends was one thing, anything else would have been asking too much.

He’d almost forgotten about the fucking machine. It had been a gag gift from an old hookup, but as soon as he remembered it, Clint had latched onto the idea. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A lifeline. He could set it up, and then set _himself_ up so that he could _pretend_ it was Bucky fucking him.

Clint had never expected Bucky to walk in on him like that, or to see Bucky’s eyes as turned on as Clint was. But he should have _known_ it wasn’t real, since Bucky had been able to resist much better than Clint and now here they were, the last of the pollen out of their systems and Clint was just… embarrassed.

Because there was no way Bucky would ever look at him the same again.

Clint’s quarters hadn’t been cleared to return to – no one wanted a repeat incident – so he was hiding out in Natasha’s spare room. There was no way he could face the rest of the team – but _especially_ Bucky – after all of _that._

There was a knock on the door and Clint groaned, rolling away from it and pulling his blankets over his head.

“Go away, Nat, I’m not talking about this,” he shouted just before yanking his aides out and putting them on the nightstand.

There was a draft and then a weight on the bed and he knew he’d been ignored. The weight leaned over him, leaned on him, grasping the aides and holding them out for Clint to see. Those weren’t Nat’s hands. He swallowed.

Nat would have been preferable than to have to sit and talk with the man he’d been pining after for months and then made a sex pollen induced move on (which had only given Clint the courage to do what he’d been afraid to do in the first place because then _this_ would happen).

Slowly, he took the aides and fitted them back into place.

“I don’t wanna talk to you either, Buck,” he muttered, refusing to roll over and face Bucky.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky’s voice was soft, filled with…

Clint frowned and rolled over. There was hope and fear on Bucky’s face, shining in his eyes. “Mean what?” Clint asked slowly. “If I said something… I don’t have a very good memory of the past few days, man, you’re gonna _have_ to be clearer.”

“You dream of me?” Bucky asked, his hand twitching, like he wanted to reach out and touch Clint and – _oh!_ Maybe… maybe Clint had been wrong.

He swallowed and nodded shakily. “All the time,” he whispered with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” Bucky’s mouth eased into a smile. “I uh, should probably confess, I do too.”

“Dream of _me?”_ Clint asked incredulously.

“Yeah, you, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Clint breathed. “I think… you called me that before, right?”

Bucky nodded. “You had me so worried and uh, _distracted_ , that it kinda slipped out, but I’ve been calling you that in my head for months.”

“But, you resisted.”

“Super Serum,” Bucky said with a shrug. “From what Bruce says, probably shouldn’t have affected me as strongly as it did, but it, um… as a side effect, it enhances what’s already there.”

“Which is why when you got me out of my room, I didn’t want anybody else, just you?” Clint sat up now, staring at Bucky.

“Yeah, so, I guess it’s safe to say, the feelings mutual,” Bucky said. It was almost shy, his head ducked down and his hair hiding most of his face. “Damn near took Stevie’s head off when he tried to pat my shoulder just after you and I got separated.”

“Oh,” was all Clint could say with his heart racing and his blood pounding. Without thinking, Clint reached forward and gently tucked some of Bucky’s hair behind both ears.

Bucky was blushing.

“I’m sure Steve will forgive you,” Clint said, feeling the grin spreading over his face.

“But will you forgive me?” Bucky asked. And… what?

“What?” Clint blinked at him. “What the hell do I have to forgive you for?”

“Clint, I busted into your room, I intruded into your sanctuary and then I nearly took advantage of you!”

“That’s not how _I_ see it,” Clint protested. “I was in trouble. You came to my rescue and got me help even while you were also under the same influence. You resisted – I certainly didn’t.”

“I almost didn’t,” Bucky said. “God, I almost…”

“Hey,” Clint said, scooting closer. “But you didn’t and… I gotta say, if you really do uh, feel something for me, too, then I wouldn’t have cared one fucking bit.”

He reached for Bucky’s hands and tangled their fingers together, Bucky’s eyes going down to stare at their clasped hands in dazed shock before coming back up to meet Clint’s once more. There was that hope again, but now it was drowning out the wary fear that had been there before.

“And I do think I remember something… I remember you promising me kisses and anything else I could want… is that offer still on the table?” Clint asked nervously. “because I really do like you and… if this is mutual, if you really can put up with a disaster like me, then I’d love to give us a try.”

Bucky gave a short little laugh and shook his head. “Jesus, that’s almost exactly what I was going to say. I’m still fucked up, Clint. I’m… not exactly a prize in the person department yet.”

“You _are_ a person, don’t let anyone else tell you different. And uh, I feel compelled to point out, I’m messed up, too. Maybe two messed up people can make a right?”

“Hey, my memory may be full of holes, but I’m pretty sure the phrase doesn’t go like that,” Bucky said, grinning, his fingers giving Clint’s a squeeze.

Clint shrugged. “Meh, how should I know? I never even went to highschool.”

Bucky laughed. “God, I love you, doll.”

Breath catching in his throat, Clint stared at Bucky, eyes swimming. Bucky suddenly looked nervous, looking nervous and tugging his hand away but Clint held on tighter before throwing himself at Bucky and knocking him to the bed before kissing them both breathless.

When he finally pulled back, he tapped their heads together, his hand now cupping Bucky’s cheeks.

“Don’t you dare say sorry,” Clint said, “Cause you’ve made my dreams come true. In fact, I think I’m still dreaming. Pinch me. Ow! Fuck, okay, not a dream.” Clint beamed down at Bucky giddily.

Bucky rolled them till they were both laying on their sides, their legs tangled. The palm of his hand slid over Clint’s jaw and Clint leaned into it, nuzzling it before turning and placing a gentle kiss to the warm metal. Bucky couldn’t help the soft gasp.

“I didn’t scare you off?”

“Baby, if anyone shoulda been scared off, it should have been you. Since you’re not, you’re stuck with me,” Clint said.

“You know what?” Bucky asked as he leaned in and brushed their lips together. “I’m okay with that.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, kiss me.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if this should be M or E - i think it straddles the line. as for that and the dubious consent, mostly, bucky walks in on Clint in a compromising position and they're both affected and have a hard time resisting but nothing really happens between them, though it's clear clint's been trying to get off for some time.


End file.
